click to access the photo gallery. STORIES OF ORDINARY MAGIC
Tarcentine dressed from Ecuador, in English and mariachi outfit flag-wavers. A Mexican
smiles for the cameras, put in the unusual folklore Friuli.
stories of ordinary magic, just to reinterpret Bukowski, the last day of the Festival, here at
schools. Just a few hour of closing the show, it's raining outside but there is no room for sadness
. There is talk of magic and transformation, because it is the theme of today and the deep sense of
this intense week of celebration. The writer Milan Kundera has
wanted to call one of his most successful novel "The Farewell Waltz". Judging from the atmosphere that reigns in the corridors
think rather to a "tango dell'arrivederci. Last night, Monday 23, the last private party,
returning from travel in Venice. The artists of the six countries have met the Serenissima,
savored for a few hours its unmistakable aroma. And in the evening, returned to Tarcento,
have wanted to keep on dreaming. Songs sung outdoors, drinking cold beer with friends.
The folklore is that too. Today we are here, all processed, all different. Each
in the shoes of the other. A magic possible only when we speak the same language.
a language that knows no borders, customs, borders. The music. The goddess of harmony and common sense. At two
in the morning we will greet the group Tungurahua in Ecuador. At five will be the turn of
English cousins, and after breakfast, between nine and ten, the last mention of the sombrero
Colima Mexican flag and a fleeting flight of the friends of Cori Lazio. In the first afternoon the group
Goretz Ossetia leave for distant lands on his bus. The irrepressible
of New Caledonia will leave the school around 23. An adventure turns to
sunset. A sunset that accompanied it, step by step, as the slow decline of light
regions of South America. Let's have fun, dance and share. Everyone says so in his
language, but all say the same thing.
I am just a curious. Carry what I see, what I feel. The emotions I feel.
I wanted this little window on the Festival of Hearts because, in my little corner hidden
secluded, quiet but alert, I immediately felt part of this immense
color wheel that spins, like the lives of people around the world. In my message of thanks
followed by many names. The names of those who bet on me and I wanted to like "Curious Journal" of the Festival.
These names are in my mind and my heart, by the management, staff, new friends
I found. Other adventures begin. Other pages will be written. With or without me. If
then, to "spy" smile with the energy and passion of folklore I can be me again, there
deny that I will receive a gift.
The gift that we want to leave it for the last time an image. Perhaps the image, the scene of
Festival of Hearts, and sums up all the spirit that has always wanted to represent.
This time, it is not leading the now-famous "baby Maori" but a "baby
Flamenco". Carmela. To form the circle are all there. And they all keep the rhythm. Beside the
mujeres English flag bearers dressed in choir, the strings vibrate in unison their
classical guitars, singing an aria Iberian tradition. On the opposite side of the public
Ossetians, Friuli, Lazio, Mexican and Ecuadorian encourages this extraordinary
budding ballerina. Carmela has his moment of honor, as a kind of initiation rite,
before the eyes of his fellow enthusiastic Andalusians. Carmela knows that this party wants to be a leader
. It moves up fairy steps, sway gracefully, fleeting glances,
shouts, "Ole!" With others. Carmela is the Festival of Hearts. For seven days indienticabili, so we were all
.
Daniele Treu
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